


You've Fallen for Me

by jstrattford



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:53:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4257174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jstrattford/pseuds/jstrattford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn’t like guys. </p><p>He likes one and only one guy who’s just too dumb to notice.</p><p>Or at least that’s what Harry thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Fallen for Me

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a year ago, but modified some parts slightly (this is originally found on my [tumblr](http://arie-172.tumblr.com/post/91783446127/youve-fallen-for-me)).

“Alright. Let me see if I understand correctly,” Harry hums, arching back in the chair and placing his feet on the desk.

“You want me to write a new letter?” he asks, crossing his arms and looking like a bit of a badass as the girl - Molly Richmond - shyly shakes her head.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Harry pauses, catching the way Molly takes a short deep breath. He smirks lightly.

“What was wrong with the last one?” Harry tilts his head to the side and raises a brow, as if he’s deeply offended.

“Nothing!” The brunette haired girl practically shouts, like she’s afraid that she’s just hurt Harry’s feelings. But Harry just keeps the smirk on his face, eyes strong and steady.

“Then it’s fine the way it is?”

“No! I mean,” she begins, extremely flustered. “Don’t get me wrong. The last one was good and all, but there were a couple of things I forgot to say,” she mutters, relaxing a little when Harry springs his feet back down.

“Things you forgot to say… _I see_. And by this you mean change the whole thing, right?” Harry grins lightly, taking out the infamous spiral notebook of his.

“It’s not that much! Honest!” Molly mumbles, half apologizing. “I could’ve just given him the last one but there were things I missed,” she mutters softly, brows close together from her embarrassment.

“Things you missed,” Harry muses, slight grin on his face, and at this point he’s just doing it to torture the girl a little, letting out a small chuckle. “Alright, then. What were those things you forgot to say?”

“Well…I forgot to say…a couple of things,” she blushes, struggling to speak.

“Which happen to be?” Harry says in that polite way of his that’s hiding his desire to yank off his hair.

“I…really, uh…forgot to…” she says weakly, an awkward silence ensuing. “I…”

Harry firmly shuts his notebook, startling the wide-eyed girl.

“If you can’t even say it, then how am I supposed to write it down?” Harry questions, irritated. “I need details and not these incomplete sentences,” he grumbles, knowing that he sounds like a douche, but he doesn’t have the time for any of this.

Harry lets out a heavy breath as he reaches for his bag.

“I-I, I’m sorry!” The girl’s eyes widen as she shakes her head quickly. “I’m just not good with this,” she miserably mutters, and that much Harry can understand, sighing, but placing his bag back down.

“Just tell me the basics,” he opens the notebook, rather reluctantly, but smiles softly.

“Well…” The girl looks so small and vulnerable that Harry wonders if maybe he’s being unreasonably harsh.

He’s always been kind of dubious whenever he has these types of meetings, but from his own experience he knows just how hard it is to be in the girl’s situation, especially when she says that she’s “not good with this.”

Realistically speaking, neither is he.

“Go on,” Harry encouragingly says, face turning sympathetic.

“I just wanted to say…” She gulps loudly as she plays with her fingers, head hunched down to avoid Harry’s strong gaze. At this rate, he’s going to be stuck there for a very long time, he’s sure of it. But Molly finally raises her head to look at him, face flustered.

“I just wanted to say that he’s really cute and his eyes…”

 _Ah, but of course_.

Harry closes his notebook once again.

_Cute._

The blank expression on his face does nothing to dissuade the girl, who’s too lost in her own thoughts to notice the vacancy in Harry’s eyes.

 _It’s always cute and never anything else_.

Harry fakes a smile at the girl who’s rambling, as his mind begins zoning out.

It had started off as a small favor, really. That’s all it was.

A favor to a girl in his English class who told him that he absolutely, most definitely, “had to help her write a letter for Liam Payne.”

“Why?” Harry had asked, frowning at the girl, but she shrugged, telling him simply, “because I’ve seen you write. You’re really good.”

_You’re really good?_

Harry quirked a brow, confusion settling on his face, because as far as he could remember, she had never actually seen his writing.

No one had, he thought, watching her smile at him in a way that he could only describe as secretive, before releasing a small gasp because there in her hand was his black and white spiral notebook, containing his most personal thoughts.

Harry gulped.

“That’s…” The jolt went through every part of Harry’s body, mouth completely dry.

“How did you… _what_ …?” Harry’s flustered self was unable to finish, every amount of embarrassment making its way to his cheeks.

The girl only shrugged lightly, the slight grin on her face catastrophic because Harry knew he had been caught.

“I’m asking this as a favor,” she smiled, adding in a much softer voice, “I’m not going to tell him.”

 _Him_.

No word had ever felt so horrid.

He was, in the worst way possible, fucked.

Harry cleared his throat loudly, trying to find his voice.

“So you mean…you won’t say anything if I do this?”

“Yes,” the girl nodded.

“And this is just one letter?” asked Harry, dubious expression on his face.

“Just one,” she said, face relaxed and sincere.

 _Just one_.

He could, he thought, live with that.

So Harry did. He wrote that one tiny letter and handed it to her the next day, thinking that it would somehow be it and that it would solve his dilemma.

The only issue was that of course it was nowhere near just one letter because his letter had the opposite intended effect.

It seemed that it had done quite the impression because pretty soon he was swarmed by girls telling him the exact same thing. He, according to them, “had to help them,” and as much as Harry wanted to argue that he indeed couldn’t, he eventually, and very half-heartedly agreed, because of course, he couldn’t let him know.

Harry lets out a deep breath, blinking multiple times, glancing at Molly watching him with a quizzical expression.

Oh, _right_. He had forgotten he was in the middle of something, coughing into his hand.

“Was that too quick?” she asks, very red-faced.

It was his own fault he was in this situation, Harry thinks, shaking his head lightly.

“Of course not,” he says unenthusiastically, but with a smile on his face, eliciting one from Molly as well.

It’s at that exact moment that it occurs to Harry that this is indeed the price to pay for ever letting Niall know of his undying love for him. And figuratively speaking, he’s okay with that because really. He’s got no other choice.

 _No other choice_ , Harry thinks, sighing.

*

Harry’s a perfectionist. There’s no easier way of putting it.

It doesn’t matter if he’s given the simplest task, like choosing a pair of shoes, or if he’s asked to make corrections on his essays. Either way, he’s strives for perfection.

Which possibly explains why he’s vigorously spending his time working on the letter he’s been told to rewrite in his Physics class instead of paying attention, because if there’s one thing he hates, it’s leaving things incomplete.

It’s also the only way he can stop himself from staring at Niall, who’s sitting on the opposite side of the room, but Harry tries to tell himself that it has nothing to do with how he’s fidgeting with the pencil in his hand. That it’s unrelated to the way he forgets to take a breath each time Niall glances his way.

Or that he hasn’t thought about what it’d be like to run his fingers through the strands of soft blond hair and stare into his blue eyes until he’s finally able to…

 _Fuck_.

Harry cheeks are on fire now, as he averts his gaze.

He shakes his head lightly, willing himself to not glance back, as he tries to think of words that rhyme with soul.

 _Bowl? No, not that_ , Harry shakes his head, erasing the words on his paper. _Control, mole, coal…_

“Hey,” calls a curious voice, breaking Harry’s train of thought. “What’s that?”

“N-nothing,” Harry utters, hurriedly trying to find a blank page. “I’m just doing a bit of, uh, writing. That’s all,” he adds, unconvincingly so.

Zayn frowns at that, craning his neck to get a better look, looking over Harry’s shoulder.

“ _I’ve known it since the moment I saw you_?” He manages to read before Harry turns the page. “That doesn’t seem like nothing,” he muses, briefly glancing at Niall.

“Are you finally…?”

“No,” Harry shakes his head immediately. Zayn frowns more widely, trying to read Harry with his hawk-like eyes.

“I see,” Zayn replies, extremely curious to Harry’s supposed indifference. He, like most of the student population, knew of Harry’s feelings for Niall.

It was kind of hard not to tell, actually, shocking to Harry (who had thought he had done a good job of hiding it).

The only person who didn’t know was Niall but he was, well…he was Niall. As clueless and dense as they came, possibly the most oblivious person in the world, but Harry was _extremely_ thankful for that.

Zayn studies Harry carefully. “Then why are you writing sappy lovesick notes?” he presses.

“They’re not sappy,” Harry grumbles, offended. “I don’t write sappy things,” he tells him, glancing to his side involuntarily, like he can’t stop himself.

He feels a friction in his chest when he sees Niall with a quirked brow carefully watching them, slight smile on his face. But he turns once he sees Harry’s eyes on him, mouth tugged upwards.

The sinking feeling makes Harry’s stomach clench, tightening his grip on his pencil with his sweaty hands.

“Even if I was, it really doesn’t concern you,” he tells Zayn strongly. “I don’t need a reason to do this,” he says, but his mind immediately goes to Niall, wincing slightly.

“Whoa, calm down,” Zayn tells him, not even slightly angered by Harry’s tone. Instead, he actually looks concerned now, carefully studying Harry’s defeated posture.

“I’m just wondering why you’re writing these lovesick notes,” he muses. “If it isn’t for him then why are you writing them? I can’t - _oh!_ ” His eyes open widely, realization setting in.

“Harry…” Zayn pauses, visibly struggling to find the correct words, sending Harry’s nerves into overdrive. “Don’t tell me…it’s not those love letters again, is it?”

“It’s not that,” Harry grumbles, liar written all over his face.

Zayn shakes his head, judging Harry with his eyes. “I thought you said you were done with those. I thought you didn’t want to write them anymore.”

“I don’t,” Harry says, annoyed. “But this is the last one.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” Zayn reminds him, exhaling, brows scrunched together like they do whenever he loses his patience.

“Why can’t you just say no? It’s not like it’s that hard for you. You say it to us all the time.”

“This is different,” Harry mutters, averting his gaze. “I’m not doing it because I want to…” he pauses, his stomach in knots, as he tries to find some strength. “But I just _can’t_ stop right now.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Zayn says, tone insistent but tired. He sighs loudly but draws back, leaving a very thankful Harry alone.

Zayn might be very persistent in pleading with him to tell Niall, but Harry could never say that he wasn’t a good friend.

In theory, Harry could see Zayn’s point and constant insistence.

Telling Niall would be easy.

Harry could concede that much because it’d just involve him going up to Niall and telling him, “I like you _a lot_. I _really_ want you to know that.” Or something along those lines.

Harry knows that much would be a piece of cake.

But what he fears is what comes after.

Like seeing the frown on Niall’s usually smiling face. Or the disgust in his eyes and his rigid posture, all resulting in the same thing: the cold-hearted rejection.

That’s the part he can’t take. That’s what makes him pull back each time he thinks that it might not be such a bad idea to go up to Niall and tell him.

Niall. The boy with the friendly smile and bright eyes, crinkles near his eyes when he throws his head back and laughs, backing away from him.

 _No_. Harry could _never_.

He’d have to be in mere oblivion before even considering that option.

*

“This is amazing!” Molly exclaims, glowing when she reads the rewritten version.

Harry lets out a small smirk, shrugging. “It’s the least I could do,” he grins lightly.

“You really are the best,” she says, eyes shinning like she can’t believe the quality of Harry’s work. She’s completely taken by the letter that she’s not properly paying attention anymore, rereading each part that she’s already chosen as her favorite, Harry can tell.

“I really can’t thank you enough for this.” She says, voice sounding smaller now, eyes perched down. “I really—”

“It’s fine,” Harry motions for her to stop, smiling gently.

He’s always wondered about this part.

About why people seem to sing him praises right after they see his work when to him it’s nothing spectacular. He ponders why they keep coming back for more help, but most of all, why he’s still doing it. The easy way out might be saying a simple Niall, but standing there and seeing people react that way makes him think that it’s probably not the only reason why he still does it.

 _It’s strange, really_ , Harry thinks, clearing his throat.

Molly finally escapes from her trance and gazes back at him, smiling brightly at him.

“Uh...is there anything else I can help you with?” Harry awkwardly questions. Usually people leave right after, but she’s just standing there, watching him with a smile on her face.

“You could tell?” she laughs, shaking her head lightly. “Well. Now that you mention it, there is something that I need help with. It’s for a friend, actually.”

_Oh, here it comes._

A friend of a friend.

This was always the reason why Harry was stuck in the same situation. It was like an obnoxious chain letter that he couldn’t free himself from - no matter his efforts.

Harry keeps the small grin on his face, though.

“What is it?” He asks in that reluctant tone of his.

“Well. They actually kind of need your help with this too. And since you’ve been so amazing, I thought that maybe you could help.” She pauses, offering an even bigger smile. “Will you help them?”

Harry sighs. There was no way he could say no - even she knew that. But hey? What was another letter to him?

“Sure,” he flatly says.

She brightens at that, excited. “They’re outside. Can I bring them in?”

Harry quirks a brow, taken aback from her forwardness but nods. “Why not?” Harry sarcastically grumbles, but she misses it because she’s already making her way outside the room.

Harry’s grumbling to himself now, hand rubbing the sensitive skin underneath his chin, eyes shut. It’s his way of preparing himself for the same old routine - the very boring one of the forced smiles and ramblings about the same thing. It was _never_ different.

“Harry?” he hears.

Harry lets out a small breath but opens his eyes, almost falling off his chair when he sees Niall standing next to her.

“I…” He says, rather foolishly, standing to his feet - so quickly that he thinks he might have pulled a muscle, but he’s not even conscious about what he’s doing anymore.

Molly, however, doesn’t even appear to notice, smile bright.

“Do you know, Niall?” she happily asks.

Harry nods lightly but it’s Niall who speaks.

“We’re in the same Physics class,” he tells her, looking back at Harry’s surprised face.

Harry’s having a hard time breathing properly now. There’s a twisting in his stomach that won’t stop and the thud near his chest is riveting, sending vibrations through every part of his body.

“Harry…?” Molly asks, confused, very accustomed to a confident and collected Harry.

Harry nods his head slowly, a spectacular pink tainting his skin.

It’s such a strange spectacle. He’s usually so composed but he looks so lost, and he feels incredibly robotic standing right across the boy his mind’s been thinking of for so long.

“Are you okay?” Molly asks, voice bringing him back to his surroundings.

 _Oh_ , right.

They’re not alone. She’s still there.

“I’m alright,” Harry says, liking the ring to it. She studies the space between them and her eyes open widely, as she looks at Harry’s red-stained face.

Shit. Was he really that obvious?

Molly doesn’t say anything though. She just smiles. _A lot_.

Harry almost wishes he could wipe off that silly grin off her face, clenching his teeth.

“ _Well, then_. I guess I’ll leave you two,” she says, winking at Harry. Harry tenses up but keeps his face stony.

“Bye, Niall,” Molly turns, hugging Niall, and Harry already decides that if she ever comes for help again, he’s going to give her the first horrid letter he can.

“Bye,” Niall says, hugging back, but turns quickly to look at Harry.

Molly does a final look-over, grinning so widely now, but finally shuts the door, leaving the two boys alone.

The strain in Harry’s throat is back now, struggling to breath through his nose. Niall doesn’t appear fazed, though. He looks the same as always, and Harry hates it. He hates being so inadequate in front of him.

“So…” Niall hums, attempting to break the silence. He bashfully looks at Harry’s eyes.

“Molly says you write love letters.”

“On occasion,” Harry weakly says, quite possibly his least proudest moment.

Niall nods at that with some caution, carefully studying Harry.

“I’m only wondering because I actually really need your help.” He pauses, face smeared in tiny specks of red. “There’s someone that I like…” he blushes, like he’s at a loss for words. Harry tries not to let it affect him too much, keeping his face icy.

“And you want me to help you?” Harry finishes for Niall, finally gathering his strength. Niall looks startled by his words but nods.

“Can you? Help me, I mean,” he clarifies. “I know that it’s probably such a bother and all, but I just wanted to know if I could count on you for this,” Niall adds nervously.

Harry tilts his head to the side, taking a glance at Niall, inadvertently making Niall flinch.

There were two ways he could approach this. One would be easy and spare him a lot of pain, while the other would basically be a long and torturously adventure…but at what cost? Niall’s expectant eyes are so innocent and kind and gracious and…

 _Fuck_.

Harry takes a deep breath. He was always horrible at saying the two-letter word, even more impossible with Niall watching him with so much hope.

“Of course,” Harry says, his heart hurting. But Niall smiles widely, and Harry thinks that as long he can make that happen in the end, it might not be so bad.

So he says it again. “Of course, I will.” _Anything for you_ , he thinks, watching Niall’s glowing face.

 _Absolutely anything_.

*

Zayn’s not happy when Harry tells him about his predicament.

“Of course he isn’t,” Louis shoots, siding with a crossed Zayn. “You’ve agreed to write one of those letters for the boy you’ve been in love with since forever.”

“He asked!” Harry croaks. “I couldn’t say no!”

“Uh, you actually could’ve.” Zayn grumbles. “You’re just too dumb to say no when you actually need to.”

“You just don’t get it.” Harry lets out an exasperated breath. “ _I couldn’t_. Not when he was watching me like that and asking me for help.”

“For fuck’s sake, Harry! Y—” Zayn begins but pauses when Louis places a hand on his shoulder. He squeezes gently Zayn’s arm, shooting him a worried glance. Zayn lets out a breath but nods.

“Harry…” Louis hesitates, sucking a small breath. “You know you could just tell him.”

“Tell him?” Harry echoes, sitting up.

Zayn nods, jaw tense. “Tell him you love him.”

“We’ve been through this before,” Harry groans, shaking his head. “It’s no use. Telling him won’t change anything.”

“It’s no use until you actually try, Harry,” Zayn says, body visibly relaxing. “You’ll never know until you do.”

Harry watches them with his lips pressed in a thin line. He knew the reasons for telling him were legit. That it wouldn’t be difficult in the slightest, but his mind went to that rejection and it was enough to send him cowering away.

“I’ll see,” Harry breathes, just to get them off his back.

Louis and Zayn sigh but drop the subject, patting his shoulder.

“The things we do for you,” Louis groans, but offers Harry a small smile. It’s very forced but Harry returns it, muttering, “we’re on the same page.”

*

Harry’s hands are sweating when he sees Niall walk in - quite unlike what he’s used to.

Usually, it’s the other person who’s nervous and it’s extremely obvious. They usually look at their feet when walking in. Or they come in bashfully and timidly stare at him in the face. But Niall’s nothing like that. He just walks in, confidently, looking Harry straight in the eyes, that it’s almost Harry who looks away.

He’s dressed comfortably, Harry notices. He’s wearing his plaid blue and white t-shirt over a regular plain white one. The one that Harry’s imagined pulling over Niall’s head but really.

That’s a whole _different_ story.

“Hey,” Niall says, placing himself in the seat across from Harry, strong smell of cologne following him. _Amazing, as usual_ , Harry thinks, smiling weakly.

“Hi,” he says, surprising that he manages to find something to say, as a prolonged silence enters.

It’s much too quiet for Harry’s liking and he feels like he’s losing grasp of the situation. Like he can’t even manage to find his voice, purposely avoiding Niall’s eyes, as he fiddles with his fingers.

However, it doesn’t seem to bother Niall. He just watches Harry with a slight grin on his face, patiently waiting.

“So…” Niall muses, smile increasing when they finally lock eyes. “…how exactly do we do this?” he chuckles.

“Huh?” Harry blurts, regretting it as soon as it comes out because of Niall’s tiny smirk. He had been too lost looking into Niall’s crystal clear blue eyes that he had forgotten the reason for their meeting.

Niall takes pity, though, shrugging it off. “The letter thing,” he reminds Harry in an amused voice.

Oh, _that_.

“Let’s see,” Harry says, taking out his spiral notebook. Niall’s brows shoot up, curiosity shinning in his eyes, but Harry tries to not look too much into it.

 _Just relax_ , he tells himself. _You can do this. This is no different than any other meeting._

Although, of course it is different because he’s in front of Niall. Niall, the boy he’s been in love since before he even really knew what love was. The only person who Harry can truly say he’s loved, who’s just sitting there and watching him with a friendly smile.

 _Relax_ , Harry reminds himself, taking in a small breath.

“What do you want to focus on?” Harry says, clearing his clogged throat.

“I don’t know,” Niall says, shrugging.

Okay. So it he was one of those, Harry reasons, changing tactics.

“Anything that you want to tell her?” He asks, sticking to the most basic questions.

“Oh,” Niall says, tilting a brow. “Well. There are a couple of things, but I think that overall I just want him to know that I like him.”

“ _Him?_ ” Harry asks, wide-eyed, pencil almost falling out of his grasp.

Niall nods rather slowly. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Harry mutters, embarrassed, swallowing loudly. “It’s not. I’m just, uh, surprised, that’s it.”

“Most people are,” Niall offers, incredibly amused.

Harry wants to bury himself in a hole now, but takes a deep breath instead.

_It can’t get any worse now._

“What does he look like?” Harry asks, unable to stop himself. He’s breaking his most sacred rule. The only one he has, really, about not asking about looks, but he’s so curious now.

“Well…” Niall pauses, as if he’s contemplating it. “He’s attractive and all, but I’d rather focus on something other than that, you know? I don’t know, maybe focus on what he’s like.”

 _What he’s like_ , Harry thinks, even more intrigued now.

“Okay.” Harry watches the small grin on Niall’s face. “What’s he like?”

And it’s this time that Niall smiles, the smile that Harry’s been longing to see, that Harry’s chest swells, attention span all over the place just by watching Niall’s glowing face.

Harry misses a couple of words but nods either way because he’s pretty sure that it’s all positive. He’s too distracted by the way Niall’s eyes shine brightly, and the way his cheeks are red-flushed, and the curve of Niall’s lips as his mouth tugs upwards.

Harry’s heart lurches painfully thinking about what it’d be like for Niall to look at him that way. Or how he wishes he could make Niall’s face light up into something so wondrously beautiful.

 _Fuck. This. Feeling._ Harry thinks, gazing into Niall’s confused face. He’s stopped talking now and Harry realizes that he looks like such a creep staring at Niall’s face for so long, but Niall doesn’t seem concerned about that.

Instead, he just clears his throat, his face reflecting his nerves.

“I’m rambling now, aren’t I?” Niall mumbles, apologetically smiling at Harry.

Harry shakes his head, his chest swelling with each smile Niall gives him.

“I don’t mind,” he says, surprising even himself and his sudden risky behavior, but Niall only smiles.

Actually, it increases, much to Harry’s delight.

*

Seeing Niall in Physics class is weird.

He passes by Harry, eyes uncertain, as he mumbles a small “hi,” but he doesn’t really make any other notions that they’re working together on a letter.

Sure. Harry's always keeping it separate from his social life, but this time he’s actually desperate for the contact, wanting more than just a pesky "hi."

Harry ponders about it the next day as he sits in Physics, spiral notebook open, gazing at Niall.

Zayn glances at Harry’s direction, sighing lightly.

“Staring at him really won’t help.”

Harry shakes his head, embarrassed. “I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“Thinking or observing?” Zayn presses.

“Would it make a difference?” Harry asks, eyes signaling to Niall.

“Not really. I have an idea of who it is either way,” Zayn says, shrugging.

Harry sighs but places his attention back to the board.

He figures that he could live a couple of minutes without looking at Niall, because either way, he’ll be doing it later.

*

Harry’s a little surprised when Niall enters with a paper in his hand.

“What’s this?” Harry asks, quizzically glancing at Niall and at the paper.

“Just read it,” Niall tells him, jittery.

Harry frowns lightly but cautiously reads the scribbling, enthralled when he finally does so.

“I know it’s not that good,” Niall says after a small moment, and Harry swears that he can detect a hint of nerves in his tone.

“It’s…” Harry lets the word linger on his tongue, finally glancing at a fidgeting Niall. “It’s actually not bad. Just different than what I was expecting.”

Niall chuckles softly, sweet music to Harry’s ears, an absolute warmth in it that goes through all of Harry’s body, breaking some of the nerves he felt.

“You really don’t have to go out of your way to compliment me. If it sucks, say it. I can take it,” Niall hums, visibly relaxing now.

“I’d never lie to you,” Harry blurts before he can stop himself. Niall’s eyes widen a bit, a small smile entering his face, and Harry tries not to melt over how endearing Niall looks.

Harry clears his throat loudly. “It’s good. Trust me on this,” he weakly says, but Niall only grins.

“Thanks. I just wanted advice from an expert before I give it to him,” he says, winking, missing the way Harry’s face falls.

“When are you going to give it to him?” Harry asks through a strained voice, trying to disguise his anger. He’s jealous now, chest tightening at even thinking about Niall and some other boy.

“I’m not sure yet,” Niall muses, tentatively opening his mouth. “He’s just kind of…oblivious.”

 _Just like you_ , Harry thinks, forcing a smile. “Sounds promising.” Harry mutters in that jealous voice of his, but Niall doesn’t even appear fazed by it. In fact, he perks up.

“He’s amazing, though,” Niall laughs, as Harry’s jaw tenses. “I’d just like to meet with you once more before I tell him. Maybe try to work on combining what we have. If that’s alright with you,” Niall adds.

The idea is good in theory but Harry’s not too sure how he’ll be able to refrain himself from making the letter atrocious, knowing that it’ll be the final one given.

But then again…this is for Niall. Niall’s trusting him to not fuck things up, and he’ll just have to suck it up before ever considering the option of disappointing him.

Harry takes a loud breath. “Sure,” he reluctantly grumbles, but loves Niall’s face and the way it brightens whenever he agrees to help him.

“Thanks, mate,” Niall says, patting Harry’s back.

_Mate._

Harry cringes but keeps the miserable smile on his face, resorting to a friendly banter.

“No problem,” he playfully punches Niall’s shoulder, watching the way Niall lets out a big smile.

*

 _This is the day_ , Harry thinks, stomach in a tight ball, his body a clear reflection of the way he’s dying inside.

And Zayn and Louis of course notice his strange behavior immediately too.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Zayn questions, and Harry could almost hate him for it if it wasn’t for how light-headed he’s feeling.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t— _ah fuck_!” He croaks, grabbing his stomach strongly.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn asks again, but this time he sounds concerned. Louis stops his reading and looks at the way Harry’s tightly clutching onto his stomach, taking deep breaths through his mouth.

“You can tell us,” Louis says seriously, no hint of irony or sarcasm.

“I think…” Harry gulps. “I think I might tell Niall,” he mutters, as the words run out shakily out of his mouth.

Zayn glances at Louis, eyes wide.

“Harry…” He nervously scratches his neck. “I really _don’t_ think that’s the best decision.”

And at that, Harry sits up, fingers still digging into his stomach.

“Why not?” Harry frowns. “Haven’t you always told me that I should tell him?”

“But he already has someone he likes,” Zayn pleads with Harry to see through his foolishness, the words hitting Harry like a big slap in the face.

“ _I know_ ,” Harry grumbles unhappily. “I don’t need for you to remind me.”

Louis frowns at Harry’s angry tone as he twists the sleeves of his shirt. “We’re just being realistic,” he says, and Harry almost hates them for their bluntness, shrinking back with each word.

Zayn quietly observes Harry, mouth pressed in a tight line, mind carefully crafting the sentence in his head.

“Harry…we aren’t saying this to discourage you, but you have to understand that this is really sudden.” He pauses, taking a small breath. “Just…why _now?_ Wouldn’t this come off as a little surprising to him?”

“You’re right,” Harry bitterly laughs. “He would just laugh it off.”

“If that’s what you really think he would do, then why do you even like him?” Zayn presses.

Harry doesn’t dare speak. He doesn’t have the guts to. He knows that either way he’ll just come off as insecure, and he already hates showing this much vulnerability, even to his friends.

Instead, Harry just shakes his head. “He wouldn’t,” he says, half-heartedly believing the words that are coming out of his mouth. “I’m just being dumb.”

Zayn and Louis frown at him, able to hear the distorted chuckle that Harry does when he’s trying to pretend he’s okay.

“I won’t tell him,” Harry concludes, offering them a slightly more convincing smile.

They slowly nod at him with caution, but decide against calling Harry out on it.

“Try not to work yourself up about this,” Zayn says, eliciting a loud laugh from Harry.

 _Easier said than done_.

*

“I like this one better,” Niall says, finger pointing to the line, as Harry hovers over the paper.

Harry nods, crossing out the unnecessary words. He’s been doing a pretty good job of sitting close to Niall, only feeling the hairs of the back of his neck stand briefly when their shoulders touched and Niall gently smiled at him, but besides that, he’s been great at keeping his emotions in check.

Still, though.

He almost has to remind himself to not flinch whenever Niall says small comments about giving it to the boy, because he’s trying very hard to do his best and not mess things up for Niall.

However, something about this meeting seems different from all the others. Perhaps it’s the close proximity and the warmth he can feel radiating off of Niall’s skin. Or it could be the small sparkle in Niall’s eyes, but that’s probably just him expressing his gratitude, _right?_

Harry studies the paper one last time, quickly rereading it, nodding in approval.

“I think this is it.” He says and Niall grins happily. “Yeah?”

Harry turns slightly, catching the incredible blue in Niall’s eyes, able to smell Niall’s wonderful scent.

 _Too close_. Much too _close_.

Harry gulps loudly but keeps a straight face, averting his gaze. “Yeah,” he says, standing up and moving away from Niall quickly. 

He’s acting chaotically differently than he was 5 minutes ago that it wouldn’t surprise him if Niall calls him out on it.

Niall doesn’t say anything, though. Harry wonders why but finally looks up and sees Niall looking at him with a confused expression, brows knitted together in thought.

“So...that’s it?” Niall hums, the first forceful smile that Harry’s ever seen on him.

“You’re all set,” Harry says weakly, nodding.

“Okay,” Niall says slowly, standing, paper and bag in separate hands. It’s quite clear that he’s confused by Harry’s strange behavior, but he doesn’t look put off by it. He only hums lightly, observing Harry carefully.

“Good luck,” Harry offers, wanting to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“Thanks,” Niall looks at him with a dubious expression. He lets out a small breath, waving goodbye, as he turns and walks away.

Harry’s lungs let out a tired breath, relief flooding through him. His work was done, he reasons, gathering his things.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, the sharp pain still present deep in his chest, aching with the way his heart beats at the mere memory of Niall's eyes shinning at him in confusion. He feels foolish for the way he acted, but it’s possibly better this way. Niall won’t approach him again, and although it hurts, it’s better than having to endure Niall walking hand in hand with someone who wasn’t him. Harry was sure that would be the only result because really? The boy would have to be a fool to say no to Niall.

Harry carefully puts his notebook in his bag, beginning to relax now, but stills the moment he hears the door creak open again.

“I’ll be out soon. I just need -  _oh_.” Harry hesitates, facing a quiet Niall. “Did you…did you forget something?”

Niall’s face is blank, the only expression Harry has never been able to read. He’s just watching Harry with the paper and bag in his hands, not even blinking.

“Uh,” Harry foolishly begins. “Did you need help with something?”

Niall finally blinks, dropping his bag to the floor and placing the paper to the desk next to him. He takes in a deep breath as if to brace himself, but walks forward to dwindle the gap that was between them, grabbing Harry’s collar and pushing him forward to connect their lips.

Harry’s whole body tenses, not quite sure about what’s happening, but Niall tugs at his lips, warmth bringing him out of his surprise, as they share open-mouth kisses.

It’s better than anything Harry could’ve imagined because Niall’s just so here and present and he’s holding onto him tightly, as Harry’s fingers press lightly onto his biceps, touching every part of Niall he’s been longing to feel, smirking when he can feel Niall's lips press harder against his.

Niall isn’t very quiet about it either. He hums into their kiss, breathing much more loudly through his nose now. His arms circle around Harry’s neck but he pulls back, lips red-swollen and eyes darker.

It’s the brief contact that Harry’s been waiting for and now he just wants to feel it again, attempting to kiss Niall but Niall pulls back.

“I…”

Niall shushes him, placing a finger on his lips.

“Are you finally going to tell me now?”

“Tell you…?” Harry repeats, confused.

“That you like me,” Niall seriously says. He hasn’t let go of Harry’s waist, but Harry kind of wishes he has because his face is burning.

“That I… _what?_ How d-did— _who told you?_ ” he finally manages to say, all incoherent words, but Niall only gives him a gentle smile.

“Liam.” Niall clarifies, “A year ago.“

 _Of course he did_. That girl couldn’t keep quiet, after all, Harry angrily thinks.

However, Harry’s pulled out from his anger when Niall’s hands make their way around his face, cupping it and lowering it so their eyes can properly meet.

“You’ve liked me for that long, haven’t you?” He presses, looking far too amused with the situation for Harry’s liking.

“Not really,” Harry says dryly, trying to move his head but Niall’s strong hands push him back, fingers gently stroking Harry’s cheeks.

“Don’t lie,” Niall chuckles, teasing Harry. “You said you’d never lie to me, remember?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Harry mutters.

“How about you just say that you love me?” Niall offers, smiling so brightly, hands clutching onto Harry’s cheeks.

Harry attempts to shake his head. “What gave you that idea?” he mutters.

Niall hums at that but pulls a serious face, craning his head up slightly and closes his eyes. Harry doesn’t even ponder if he’s making the right choice or not and meets him halfway, instantly sighing at the contact of their warm lips.

But all too soon, Niall breaks it, face serious.

“You love me,” he repeats breathlessly, eyes shinning, as if Harry’s kiss is the only answer he needs.

But Harry gives it to him anyway, nodding lightly, with cheeks that are tainted pink.

Niall smiles gently at Harry, eyes fondly watching him, and Harry swears that he’ll always cherish this memory. That it’ll be stored with all his most special ones, and judging by the way Niall’s looking at him, there’ll be so much more.

“Always?” Niall asks, resting his forehead against Harry’s.

“ _Always_.” Harry says with absolute no hesitation.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Come say [hi](http://arie-172.tumblr.com/) (if you'd like).


End file.
